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Lark
Feb 5, 2005 17:34:40 GMT -5
Post by Dragon Horse Farms on Feb 5, 2005 17:34:40 GMT -5
I lead Lark into his stall, wincing as he limped along. I felt so sorry for him! I carefully gave him food and water, being careful only to give him a small amount of food. I almost cried when she looked at me, begging for more. I sadly gave him the bute, and groomed him, not touching even NEAR the hooves. I sat down on a stool I had placed in the back of the box stall, took out a book, and started to read. I didn't want to leave poor Lark all alone! He was such a sweet gelding, and I did NOT want him too die. After about an hour, I stood, stretching, give Lark one last pat, and went out to take care of Gypsy.
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Lark
Feb 6, 2005 19:59:21 GMT -5
Post by Dragon Horse Farms on Feb 6, 2005 19:59:21 GMT -5
A lone tear makes it's way down my cheek as I look at Lark. He is huddled in the back of the roomy stall. He looks miserable, and cold. I sadly walk into the stall and over to Lark. I pat him gently, and give him an ear massage. It hardly helps. Poor Lark. I think he is going to die, but I'll do everything I can to help. I slip on his halter and straighten him out just a bit. I put a stall blanket on him, and he looks up at me for the first time today. His eyes are so dull! I sadly give him the bute and his food. I also refill his water. When he doesn't move to get the food, I uhnook the bucket and bring it to him. He eats, though not much of the scant amount I gave him in the first place. He does eat the bute, however. I look around and realize his stall needs to be mucked out. I slowly, gently lead him out of the stall, being careful not to tug him. He does not want to move, but he moves anyways. I tie him outside the stall and start mucking. The job didn't take long, so I bedded it down again and put him back in. He went right to the back of the stall. I sadly leave him with a kiss goodbye and a whisper of hope.
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Lark
Feb 8, 2005 19:51:32 GMT -5
Post by Dragon Horse Farms on Feb 8, 2005 19:51:32 GMT -5
I quickly kiss Lark, and say, "Sorrry, boy, but I can't stay long." I groom him quickly, give him food, medicine, and water, and leave.
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Lark
Feb 10, 2005 18:28:59 GMT -5
Post by Dragon Horse Farms on Feb 10, 2005 18:28:59 GMT -5
I burst into tears when I see Lark hunched over inhis school. I think he is dead, but I gently touch him, and he looks at me reproachfully, then goes back to his former position. However, I keep crying. He is so sick! I doubt he will last the night. I clean his stall around him; not wanting to move him. I slowly wheel the muck out. I don't want to leave him. I come back scared that he died while I was away, but he did not. I bring his feed and water to him, and he barely touches it. I almsot cry out. At least before he ate and drank! The tears come faster now. I groom the side of him that he is not laying on, and dribble some water down his throat. He does not respond. I kiss him, and leave, planning to come back and spend the night.
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Lark
Feb 13, 2005 14:01:26 GMT -5
Post by Dragon Horse Farms on Feb 13, 2005 14:01:26 GMT -5
I come into the clinic, too shocked to cry. I walk into Lark's stall, and say quietly, "Lark, we're gonna go to the vets, and they're gonna put you to sleep. I just came to see you one last time." I sink down into the hay next to him, and finally am able to cry. I say through my tears, "It's for the best, sweetest Lark. You're in so much pain, and you'd probably die anyways. It's better this way." I'm trying to comfort myself as much as Lark. "C'mon, boy. Whaddaya say to one last grooming?" I gather up his things and start to groom him one last time. I can hardly rpocess the fact that tomorrow, Lark won't be here. I'm so distracted that I actually muck out his stall. When I realize what I've done, I let out a hard, bitter laugh. "It's like watering plastic flowers," I tell myself. I sit down with Lark again, and start doing everything I can to make him more comfortable. I drag myself up and leave the stall.
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Lark
Feb 14, 2005 17:41:37 GMT -5
Post by Dragon Horse Farms on Feb 14, 2005 17:41:37 GMT -5
I walk to what used to be Lark's stall. Eveything that was his has been removed, by some clinic staff member, I suppose. I hang a sign on the door, that says, This was the stall of a noble gelding, one who fought against laminitis, and lost the battle. Whoever gets this stall now, please take a moment to honour Lark. I also hang a small heart; braided out of the mane and tail hair the vet cut from Lark's mane and tail.
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